


She (Or Five Times Nick Referred to Harry in the Feminine)

by SingleStrand



Series: The Hammy Files (or Many Ficlets about Harry Styles and Nick Grimshaw) [2]
Category: One Direction (Band), Radio 1 RPF
Genre: M/M, royal she
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-25
Updated: 2013-11-25
Packaged: 2018-01-02 14:28:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1057860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SingleStrand/pseuds/SingleStrand
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Part of my series The Hammy Files, just a little thing I couldn't get out of my head and finally got to put down in words.  Un-betaed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	She (Or Five Times Nick Referred to Harry in the Feminine)

They’re sat on Nick’s sofa, cozied up with a bottle of wine to share, and Nick can’t stop bouncing his leg up and down.

“Stop! Grimmy, what on Earth is wrong with you?” Pixie gives him a cross look and shoves at his thigh.

“Guh. Sorry. I get so excited for the first few rounds of X Factor, though, Y’know this Pixie! The poor souls interviewed and led to their demise in front of Simon Cowell one at a time. S’like lambs being led to slaughter. I cannot wait.” Nick claps his hands together in glee, spilling a tiny drop of merlot on Pixie’s jeans. “Shit, soz.”

Nick goes to grab a flannel from the kitchen to dab at the wine, and he returns to the most angelic, curly-haired face filling his telly screen.

“Oh.”

“Oh what? Give me the fucking flannel, Nick,” Pixie says, exasperated.

“Oh _that_ ,” Nick replies, handing over the wet cloth and pointing at the screen.

Pixie barely glances at the screen before turning back to her jeans. “Looks a baby to me.”

“S’alright to look though, right?” Nick returns to his seat, eyes never leaving the screen and trying to focus on the words this little precious kitten is saying. Something about working in a bakery and just finishing up his GCSEs. And he’s, oh, he’s quite young then, right.

Harry, his name’s Harry, sings a short verse of Stevie Wonder, nothing to write home about really, but then he takes this tiny bow at the end and his lips curl up into an adorable dimpled grin, and Nick has got to meet the little cherub. He watches mesmerized as the judges debate until Pixie finally clears her throat, reminding him he’s not alone.

“What? She’s gorgeous,” is all he says and takes a sip of his wine, hiding a smug grin behind the glass.

_____________________________________________________

 

It’s late on a Thursday night and the studio is dead--only Nick, Matt, and a few stragglers from the last shift are still there. Nick’s phone buzzes in his pocket.

_can i come by? miss you_

It’s Harry. Of course it’s Harry, and he’s home and bored and needy and of course he wants to come by and annoy the shit out of Finchy. So of course, Nick responds immediately to hurry there.

One link later, and Harry’s walking in, sitting on his favorite swivel chair in the corner and snapping his chewing gum loudly.

“Evenin’. You all right?”

Nick nods his head quickly yes without turning so Harry knows he’s about to be back on air.

“You, Matt?”

Finchy just sighs and puts his headphones back on. “I’m good as long as you don’t cause trouble, Styles,” he mutters just as Nick takes the air.

Harry just grins and spins repeatedly in his swivel chair. After a few dizzying minutes, he pulls a sheet of paper off of Nick’s desk and starts making tiny balls of paper to throw at Matt across the way.

The first few Matt just bats away, steadily ignoring his antics. But after a moment, the paper he starts swatting at feels wet, sticky almost. He looks over, irritated, to see Harry pulling a wad of paper out of the same mouth he’s loudly chomping his gum with before throwing it his direction.

With a huff, Matt waits for the next song to start. “Nicholas, I suggest you control your boyfriend before I ask him to leave.”

“What?” Nick and Harry’s heads both turn abruptly in Matt’s direction. This thing they do, whatever it is right now, it’s not boyfriends. Not at all. No way.

“Finchy, I believe you’re misunderstood. Harry’s not my boyfriend. I mean, she’s pretty and all but she’s just a friend.” Nick smiles smugly, but the grin disappears quickly as a spitwad of paper hits his cheek. “What the fuck, Harry?”

“I’m not pretty.” Harry’s brow is furrowed, and he’s giving Nick a look that’s a cross between a frown and a shy blush.

Nick turns back to the soundboard and screen in front of him and pretends to get back to work. But don’t think he didn’t notice how Harry squirmed when he called him ‘she’.

________________________________________________________

 

Nick steps up to the bar to grab another drink for himself and a water for Harry, when he feels a nudge at his elbow.

“What a party, eh? Harry’s really lovin’ it, mate.” Niall gives Nick a trademark toothy grin and orders a pint.

“Yeah, she’s a right mess already,” Nick replies loudly over the music and buzz of the bar crowd.

“Who is?” Harry’s breath blows warm and wet across Nick’s neck as he wraps his arms around Nick from behind. “Who’s a mess?”

“Yeah, who’re we talkin’ about?” Niall turns a confused look on them both, bringing the beer to his lips.

Nick hesitates. Obviously Niall isn’t familiar with a man being called ‘she’, and he isn’t sure he really wants to explain or bring it to Harry’s drunken attention since he rarely uses it to his face. But then he figures, what the hell.

“Harold. Harold is a mess of course,” Grimmy shouts, reaching a hand back to squeeze Harry’s cheeks. “Look at these pretty rosy cheeks, Nialler. She’s got a good buzz, her hair flying like she’s just been fucked in the loo. A right mess, she is.” Nick’s voice fades off as he turns in Harry’s arms and kisses him gently on the cheek. Harry--pupils blown wide and an evident bulge in his pants--lunges for Nick’s mouth but he pulls back just in time. “Not on the lips, baby. Cameras. Phones. Everywhere.”

Harry whines, turning his face into Nick’s neck and grinding subtly against him.

“Right. I’ll just leave you two to it then.” Whoops. They’d forgotten Niall was even standing there.

_____________________________________________________________

 

Harry had gone to bring the car around, and based on how many times they’ve blasted Miley this long weekend together, Nick feels sure Harry will have it all queued up in the car too. As the Range Rover pulls to the curb just past him, there it is--We Can’t Stop blasting loud enough to hear a block away.

Nick having already been on his phone, decides to record for a bit. He can always decide later whether to post it to Instagram or not.

“Listen to what she listens to,” he says clearly, walking toward the passenger door. Predictably, Harry is seat dancing, arms waving clumsily before he reaches over to help open Nick’s door. He sees the phone and instantly freezes. Nick stops the recording and opens the door.

“It’s adorable. Don’t stop.”

“Fine,” Harry says and rolls his eyes, running a hand through his hair quickly as Nick resumes recording. He zooms in on Harry as he slides into the seat and Harry takes off his glasses, hamming it up for the camera.

“What’s happening? Better not put this on the internet, Grim.”

Nick turns off the phone and pulls him in for a long kiss before heading to Aimee’s birthday lunch.

 

____________________________________________________________

 

“You put it on the internet,” Harry growls grumpily in Nick’s ear as he slips up behind him in bed later that night.

“What?” Nick feigns confusion. “What’s on the internet? You shoving a huge piece of Aimee’s cake in your pretty mouth?”

Harry runs a hand down Nick’s stomach, stopping just above the waistband of his pants. “You called me ‘she’,” he growls again, this time thrusting his erection against Nick’s bum. “Like it when you call me that.” Harry’s lips trace wet kisses along Nick’s neck and earlobe.

“Wasn’t sure,” Nick says quietly, reaching back to pull Harry closer, and oh. He’s gotten naked before getting in the bed. “Was hoping you wouldn’t be mad but didn’t expect all this.”

Harry flips Nick over and moves down the bed, hovering over his waistline and mouthing at the trail of hair on his lower belly. “Want you. Wanna be good for you.”

“Mmm, always good, baby. Kiss me.” Nick grabs a handful of Harry’s hair and gently pulls him up the length of his body, lifting himself slightly to meet Harry’s lips. They kiss until Nick’s lips feel numb, hands roaming each other’s body slowly and hips grinding together easily. “Such pretty lips. Wanna get yourself ready for me?”

“No, n-not yet. Wanna suck you.” Harry blushes a bit and Nick can’t figure out why until Harry looks back up at him, determined. “Wanna be your good girl.”

Nick can tell by the waver in Harry’s voice and the way his hand trembles slightly at his waist that he’s not sure how far this reaches, how many _she_ s and _girl_ s and _pretty_ s he can encourage, but as far as Nick is concerned Harry can be his pretty, good girl all day every day.

“All right, then. Get to it,” Nick says, playfully pushing at Harry’s shoulders, trying to lighten the tension in the room some.

Harry pulls Nick’s pants off and to the floor, not hesitating a bit before taking him deep in his mouth. Nick arches his back, biting his lip and trying not to thrust into the warm wet of Harry’s mouth. “That’s my good girl,” he forces out, running a hand through Harry’s hair, practically petting him. “That’s it. A bit harder. Deeper. C’mon baby. So pretty like this.” Nick grits his teeth before he really starts babbling, focusing on Harry’s lips and the way his hands splay across Nick’s hipbones, gripping him tightly.

“So close, Harry. Gonna ... I want you. Stop, baby.” Grimmy tries to convey what he wants, where he hopes this leads, but Harry doesn’t stop. He sucks again, swallowing against Nick’s cock, and Nick comes hard, spurting down Harry’s throat as he groans through the orgasm.

“Fuck, Harry. That was the fastest--fuck. I just--” Nick can’t finish his train of thought, panting and trying to pull Harry up next to him in the bed.

“So sorry. I’m sorry, I couldn’t stop. Wanted to be your good girl, and I screwed it up.” Harry won’t look Nick in the eye, head hanging down and sweat covering his face and chest.

Nick grabs Harry by both arms and hauls him up eye to eye. “It was so good, baby. So, so good. You were such a good girl for me. I love you. Now let me take care of you. Lie back.”

Harry relents, lying back and trying to relax, and the last thing Nick hears before moving down the bed is “so glad I’m your girl”.


End file.
